We're like two naked peas in a sex pod.
It's either jizz or frosting, and either way, someone's being held accountable.
You have to stop getting hammered and preaching about that mission trip to Haiti.
That doesn't help it make any more sense. Because now you've brought pinata condoms into this.
Stripper pole. Sore legs. More vaca money.
Wake up, take the dog to the trails, puke in the woods. More days should start like this.
I just want brownies and waffles and someone to lick my tits
I just imagined you going baby-crazy and trying to shove him up into your uterus. Yes, I'm aware he's 7 years old.
Pictures of drunk me in a bike helmet are like McDonald's collectible toys. There's sooo many, but NO ONE has seen all of them.
He played with my boobs the whole time we watched Scott Pilgrim and then started invited others to play with them too. It reminded me of how my mom gives out my french fries without asking.
My roommate just caught me cleaning a tostitos queso jar with my hand and eating it. He didn't judge. Bonding moment.
What the World Series means to me is that I've slept with too many giants fans.
And two different second-graders said my make up was pretty. It's left over from last night bc I woke up 5 min before I was supposed to leave.
I sent him home with blood on his fingers and shame in his heart.
Your life is a soap opera of great sex, cats, and booze.
Randomize
